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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466723">The Dr. Smithson Case (Based on a True Story)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anayume/pseuds/Anayume'>Anayume</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Death Note (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Detectives, Drama, Drama &amp; Romance, F/M, Inspired by Death Note, Investigations, Love Confessions, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Non-Graphic Violence, Pre-Death Note Series, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:26:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anayume/pseuds/Anayume</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An alarming number of Dr. Smithson's patients have been dying, and the police aren't interested in investigating. Aspiring detective Kayla Taylor has plans to start up her own investigation, so she scribbles some notes in the corner of her copybook in class. The boy seated strangely in the chair beside her can't seem to stop staring at her notes, and he invites her to chat about the case after class. Turns out this boy isn't who he says he is, and Kayla is about to get a taste of life as an esteemed detective. Can Dr. Smithson's guilt be proven before more murders occur?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>L (Death Note)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          Outside the lecture hall, the clouds were beginning to darken. As much as Kayla adored London, she wished that the sun would show its rays more often. With her pencil’s eraser pressed to her lips, she gazed at the blackboard in front of her. She let the chalky words blur whilst her mind drifted away from the principles of criminal justice. As precipitation beat heavily against the windows, a memory, as it sometimes would to the sound of rain, resurfaced.</p><p>          It was a stormy September evening during which Kayla and her parents were homeward bound from a local theater. It had been a birthday present to Kayla’s mother, who claimed that she wanted to “start living again.” Eight-year-old Kayla did not understand what her mother had meant by this, but the radiance in her mother’s smile during the final curtain call gave her the impression that she desired to see more theatrical productions. As her father drove the three of them home, the winds and rain became turbulent, sending little Kayla jerking back and forth behind her seat belt in the backseat. There was a loud screech, a violent halt, and then blackness.</p><p><em>           Crash </em>. Kayla blinked, and her vision returned to the classroom as she watched her sixty-year-old professor slowly bend over to retrieve the ruler he’d dropped to the floor. He looked a little flustered, but he loudly cleared his throat and continued on with his lecture. </p><p>          “My goodness,” he groaned. “Where was I? Ah, yes, I just wanted to reiterate my last point...”</p><p><em>           “Reiterate.” </em> Once again, Kayla’s mind was whisked away from the words leaking from her professor’s mouth. Instead, she was reminded of a bizarre case she’d heard about on the news over the weekend. It had only been mentioned very briefly, and it sounded as though there would be little to no further investigation on the matter. Kayla, ever curious, decided she would jot down what she could remember from the news story in the left hand corner of her marble copybook to research some more after class. Dr. Smithson’s patients were dying at a suspiciously high rate. According to the news broadcast, the police called the deaths coincidences since the patients were all in their seventies or older. </p><p>          “There’s no reason to be accusing the man of anything,” she remembered hearing one of the interviewed policemen say. “I’ll reiterate: he mostly takes care of the elderly. It’s unfortunate that he’s experienced this much loss so close together, but there’s nothing to investigate. It happens - it’s nature. That’s that.” </p><p>          However, Kayla knew that any life, young or old, held value. As she scrawled, she felt a pair of eyes examining her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her classmate watching her write intently. Kayla tried to pay him no mind, but she felt her brow begin to furrow as the minutes passed. Eventually, she put down her pen and turned to confront the person. When she set her eyes on him, she felt her jaw clench behind her soft lips. It was Cody Irwin, the unkempt genius, clad in his typical long-sleeved white tee and ratty denim jeans.</p><p>          Cody was an odd boy. He was also, seemingly, the only smarter person in the room than Kayla, which sent a flicker of heat through her chest whenever she spotted him in class. He ranked in first place on their A levels, whereas Kayla ranked second. Cody certainly didn't carry the air of a genius upon his hunched shoulders, but, if he was a genius, Kayla figured he had to be a “mad” one. She trusted the university’s judgment. Besides, her scoring second highest meant that she was still the highest scoring woman to enter the university, and that was still very much something of which to be proud. When Kayla stopped writing, his sunken grey eyes traveled slowly from her notebook and up into her eyes. He remained silent and unblinking. His hands rested upon his knees, which had been squeezed between the table in front of him and his chest.</p><p>          “Erm,” Kayla mumbled, “are you staring at me?”</p><p>          “It’s your notes,” replied Cody, not denying that he was, in fact, gazing in her direction. “Are you investigating the Smithson case?”</p><p>          “No.” Kayla held back from rolling her eyes, and decided to remain polite. “I wish. However, we’re sitting awfully close to the front of class. We ought to keep quiet.” </p><p>          “Oh, right, yes, of course.” Cody finally looked away from Kayla, his index finger pressed to his chin. “Then perhaps we could discuss this after class somewhere, say, the cafeteria? It’s Tuesday. They should have cake.”</p><p>          “Sure,” Kayla hesitantly agreed, not knowing what to expect after the lecture came to an end, or what cake had to do anything.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          Kayla grabbed a small coffee and a bag of crisps to munch on as she and Cody were to become acquainted with one another. When she met Cody at a table in the cafeteria, she couldn’t help but glance at his tray. He’d selected a rather large piece of shortcake, and a plate of bite-sized brownies. <em> Somebody has a sweet tooth, </em> she thought to herself as she sat and stirred some cream into her coffee. Cody reached over his knees, which were, again, tucked between himself and the table, for some of the brownies on his tray.</p><p>          “If you don’t mind me prodding,” Kayla began as gently as she could, “why do you sit like that?”</p><p>          “I don’t sit like this because I want to," Cody explained, delicately holding a miniature brownie in each of his hands. "I sit like this because I have to. If I were to sit normally, my deductive skills would be lowered by nearly forty percent.” He nibbled on one of the brownies.</p><p>          “It’s only cake,” giggled Kayla. “I didn’t know you needed deductive skills to eat sweets.” Truthfully, she didn’t know how sitting strangely could strengthen one's mind at all.</p><p>          “Sugar is essential energy for the brain,” claimed Cody. “Also, I find that all areas of life tend to call for reasoning. However, we aren’t here to discuss me, although, I don’t believe I’ve ever properly introduced myself. I’m Cody Irwin.” He leaned forward slightly to offer Kayla a handshake laden with brownie crumbs.</p><p>          “Kayla Taylor, but most call me Kay,” she reluctantly shook his hand, and then promptly wiped some crumbs from her fingertips in her lap.</p><p>          “Well, Kay, the Smithson case is one I’ve become personally interested in.”</p><p>          “I’m not surprised,” sighed Kayla. “I think it’s rubbish that the law is being so dismissive. What if the deaths aren’t coincidences? I mean, I'm certainly not accusing the man of anything, but I can't help but wonder how awful it would be if these families entrusted their mothers and grandmothers to a doctor who ended his patients’ lives. I can't fathom it.”</p><p>          “I see...” Cody gazed at Kayla, his left thumb pressing into his bottom lip. “Tell me, Kay, if you were assigned to this case, what would you do first?” His right hand absentmindedly stacked the remainder of his brownies into a miniature pyramid.</p><p>          “Me?” She hadn’t yet had the opportunity to think that far.</p><p>          “Yes.”</p><p>          “Well,” she drew a deep breath as she pondered, “I reckon I’d ask the Department of Health for Smithson’s medical journal,” she reasoned. “That would probably be a good place to start. I’d look for anything mismatching, or anything even slightly off. I might even go so far as to compare him to the other doctors in his facility.”</p><p>          “That’s quite impressive.” Cody blinked, stoic as ever.</p><p>          Kayla found herself smiling at Cody Irwin for the very first time. "Thank you. I actually wish I was already out of school so that I could help solve this case, or... any case for that matter."</p><p>          "Well, you wouldn't be investigating Smithson if you were working for law enforcement. They’ve made it clear that they don't wish to be involved. However... L has already begun investigating the matter privately," Cody said, focusing most of his attention on deconstructing and reconstructing his brownie pyramid. </p><p>          “He <em>has</em>?” Kayla gasped. “He doesn’t skip a beat, does he? But... how do <em> you </em> know that?”</p><p>          “Well... seeing as your reasoning skills are quite advanced for someone our age, and also that I need a few helping hands, I'd like to let you know,” he lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned over the table, “I am L.”</p><p>          Kayla felt her heart stop for a moment, and then begin to skyrocket. She looked into his large, grey eyes once again. There was no trace of levity in them. <em> He must be joking. He couldn't possibly be the real L. He’s my age! </em> Kayla cracked a smile. “What? I don’t... I don’t think I believe you.”</p><p>          “And rightfully so,” Cody returned to his side of the table. “Here, allow me to explain.” </p><p><em>           Am I sitting at a table sharing snacks with L, the world’s greatest detective? </em> Kayla wondered. <em> The L I’ve longed to meet for what feels like all of my life? </em></p><p>          “I’ve already begun working on the Smithson case, and I have, in fact, already begun the process of everything you described that you yourself would do for your own investigation. I need another pair of hands back at my headquarters, and I wanted to see if you and I could work together. You did score second highest on A levels, after all. Seeing as you passed my little test as well, I'd like to ask you to join me in working on this case.”</p><p>          Kayla’s heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She clenched her jaw so that it would not fall agape. <em> L just asked me to work beside him, </em> she celebrated internally. <em> Not under him, not through the law, but with him in person. I can't believe this is happening! </em>“Of course I’ll help you with this case. Of course. But, I’ve just one question. If you’re truly L, why are you at uni? You’re already renowned for your skills all over the world...”</p><p>          L gave a halfhearted shrug. “I wanted a taste of the experience. I probably won’t stay here as long as, say, you will, but, seeing as I’m also a nineteen-year-old, I should at least know what a university setting looks and feels like. It’s quite nice, actually.”</p><p>          “Oh, I see...”</p><p>          “Are you ready to leave now?”</p><p>          “Now?” Kayla's head was spinning in circles. Had he known that Principles of Criminal Justice was Kayla’s final class on a Tuesday? Did he plan their encounter in advance at a time when he knew he could ask her to leave campus immediately?</p><p>          “Yes. My assistant should be outside waiting to drive us, eh, home." </p><p>          “Ah...” Kayla felt a sudden surge of inferiority as the pair of them stood. He was no longer Cody Irwin, the smartest man in her class. He was now L, the most successful detective the world had ever known. She never imagined the moment she met L would be face to face with him, let alone at her own school. The two of them made their way to the parking lot behind the school’s dining hall. L approached a shining black car. An older gentleman with silver hair and a matching mustache stood beside it, waiting to open up the backdoor.</p><p>          “This is Kay,” L explained to the man. “She’ll be joining us on the Smithson case.”</p><p>          “It’s a pleasure,” the old man beamed. “My name is W.”</p><p>          “Kayla,” she introduced herself, extending her hand to shake W’s. </p><p>          “Kayla,” W repeated, placing his hand gingerly into Kayla’s and bowing.</p><p>          L and Kayla clambered into the backseat, and she let her eyes scour the interior of W's car. Or was it L’s car, and W was simply the chauffeur? Her left hand rested upon the seat, which was covered in a glossy black leather that smelled of lavender perfume. L was sitting to her far left, his feet free from his footwear. His hands blanketed his kneecaps by his chin, and he stared into what seemed to be a universe of his own. To Kayla’s right was a deeply tinted window, which made her ponder her true whereabouts in the city. </p><p>          Inside the car, the air was thick with thought. It remained this way until the car slowed, coming to a gentle halt. Kayla was not entirely sure whether they had arrived, or if W had decided to stop somewhere along the way. In her peripheral vision, she noticed L turn his head carefully to his left. His door then opened before him, revealing a smiling W. L stepped out of the vehicle, and stood with his hands in his pockets and his back slightly hunched. As Kayla swung her own door ajar, it nearly struck W. </p><p>          “Please allow me next time, Kayla,” insisted the aging man kindly, his hands raised between them.</p><p>          “Oh!” Kayla clapped a hand over her mouth. “Thank you. I’m so sorry!”</p><p>          They were standing in a grey garage, lit only by a single bulb that flickered as it pleased. There were no entrances or exits to the outside except for the garage door, which had already been sealed tightly. To the left of W’s car was an elevator. Adjacent on its right, a miniature keyboard and screen protruded from the wall. L typed upon the keyboard, and W did the same after him. A picture of each of them displayed on the screen. The keyboard then turned itself over, revealing a scanner. They each placed their right hand upon the scanner, and the elevator doors opened. Kayla followed them in, craning her neck as she gazed curiously at her surroundings. As the lift ascended, she took two inaudible deep breaths. <em> L wants to work with me. I have to prove I’m worthy of this. I can’t waste his time. </em> </p><p>          Soon enough, the doors parted. Kayla followed L onto the large floor; W remained in the elevator as its doors closed behind her. There was a massive screen that occupied one of the walls above a long table that was taken up by a row of boxy, white desktop computers. L promptly made his way over toward the table containing the computers and sat down in one of the silver chairs with wheels.</p><p>          "Welcome to headquarters," L deadpanned.</p><p>          Kayla slowly advanced toward L, looking around the room, however unable to see much besides silhouettes of filing cabinets and the giant screen before her. </p><p>          "This is where I spend the majority of my time," L continued, and he stepped onto the middlemost chair to take a seat.</p><p>          "How do you work in such low light?" she joked, offering him a weak smile.</p><p>          "Is everything alright?" he asked. "You seem overwhelmed."</p><p>          "Oh, no. I'm quite alright." Kayla suddenly felt a rush of heat. "Thank you for asking me to help with this case."</p><p>          "Let me fill you in on what I've done so far."</p><p>          <em>Details on the Smithson case?</em> Kayla eagerly took a seat beside L. "Oh yes, L, please."</p><p>          "Oh, I'd prefer it if you didn't address me as L. It'd be best to stick with Cody."</p><p>          "S-sure thing, Cody..." her perfect posture slumped slightly.</p><p>          “Well, seeing as this is a brand new case, I’ve only very recently requested that W obtain Smithson’s medical audit from the Department of Health along with others’ from his surgery so that I could examine and compare them thoroughly.”</p><p>          “That’s excellent,” praised Kayla. “Have you had the chance to look them over yet?”</p><p>          “No, I haven’t. You see, I’m still waiting for W to obtain the audit.”</p><p>          “I... I see.”</p><p>          “However, I <em> have </em>looked into Smithson’s criminal past,” L explained, absentmindedly rubbing his toes together as he spoke. “He once hoarded painkillers, which is something we ought to keep in mind as we continue investigating him.”</p><p>          “That certainly is. I'll have to make a note of that."</p><p>          L, without warning, stood and walked away from Kayla. She remained seated, unsure how to react to the abruptness of his retreat. He strode off into a shadowy corner of the room and bent over. Kayla was surprised to see him open the door to a miniature refrigerator. She would not have noticed it at all had L not opened the door. He reached his hand inside and pulled something out; its wrapper crinkled loudly throughout the vast room. He paused and turned his head to stare back at Kayla for a moment, who decided to remain silent rather than ask what he was doing. He then reached back into the top door of the refrigerator and pulled out a second package. He shuffled back towards her, his eyes focused downward. When he returned to his seat, L extended an arm to Kayla. </p><p>          She took a look at the package in his hand. <em> Fudgy Bar. </em> “Thanks,” she graciously accepted the treat.</p><p>          L said nothing. He was too preoccupied with his treat.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          Kayla rose with only one minute to spare before her nine o’clock alarm was set to blare in her ears. After a stretch and a yawn, she gave her little clock a hasty tap to silence it before it could wake her roommate. She groggily dressed herself for class and pulled her unwashed hair into a wobbly top knot before making her way over to the dining hall for breakfast. When she parked herself at the end of the queue to enter, the sight of a familiar mop of dark, messy hair took her off guard. L stood a mere two people ahead of her in line for access to the dining hall.</p><p>          “Cody?” Kayla found herself beckoning for him before she was even aware his alias passed her lips.</p><p>          L leaned to his left and turned his head to meet Kayla’s eyes. He spoke with a tone of surprise, although his face remained expressionless. “Ah, Kay, good morning.”</p><p>          “Good morning,” she echoed. She’d never seen L at breakfast before... or was she simply never looking for him? It’s not as though she’d cared to know more about Cody Irwin until just the previous day when he introduced himself as the world’s greatest detective. Before that, she couldn’t care less if she’d spotted him on campus or not.</p><p>          L slipped out of the queue and planted himself beside Kayla. “Since we’re both here, would you like to eat together?”</p><p>          Kayla found herself smiling. She wasn’t sure how much of the Smithson case she’d be capable of discussing before a cup of coffee, however. “Sure.”</p><p>          When they were granted access to the dining hall, Kayla went straight for some coffee and eggs with tomatoes, whereas L snatched up a little bowl of strawberries and nothing more. They settled down at a table for two in a far off corner of the hall.</p><p>          “Are you available to come to headquarters after class today?” L asked, twirling a strawberry in his hand by a single leaf.</p><p><em>           As if I’d say no</em>, Kayla laughed to herself. “Of course. Did W get his hands on the audit?”</p><p>          “Not yet, but I’m hoping he’ll have it by tonight.”</p><p>          Kayla sipped her coffee, giving L a light nod. L nibbled on his strawberries, and his free hand tapped aimlessly upon his knee, which was tucked up into his chest as usual.</p><p>          “My Gran tried to grow strawberries once, you know,” she giggled at the memory. “It was awful. The tomatoes grew, but we couldn’t do a damn thing for those strawberries.”</p><p>          L removed a berry from his cup and gazed at it. “Tomatoes are no good for shortcake,” he stated quite seriously. “Even if they <em> are </em> a fruit.”</p><p>          Kayla laughed a little louder. “No, they’re not, but they’re perfect for eggs or a pan cheese. Nobody makes better pan cheese than Gran.”</p><p>          “If you go on much longer about it, I might have to try one,” teased L.</p><p>          Kayla found herself cocking her head sideways. She couldn’t help but imagine L at her grandmother’s doorstep, hunched over in his unique way with a hand out to receive a cup of her famous hot cocoa.</p><p>          “She’s happiest with a mouth to feed, so I’m sure she’d be delighted to meet you.”</p><p>          “Delighted to meet me,” L repeated slowly, although Kayla wasn’t quite sure why.</p><p>          “She’s taught me to cook all kinds of things. Pies, cakes, all sorts of dinners... she’s basically been my mum since I was nearly nine.”</p><p>          A soft buzzing noise rang out from L’s side of the table. He slipped his hand into his jeans’ pocket and withdrew his cell phone between his index finger and thumb.</p><p>          “Sorry, that’s me,” he announced before flipping the phone open to answer it. “Hello?” ... “Yes.” ... “I see.” ... “Very well. See you soon.” He closed the phone and returned it to his pocket. “One of my other cases needs work, so I won’t be at class today. I’ll send W for you when your day is over.”</p><p>          Kayla found herself disappointed that she wouldn’t get to go to class with L, or finish their breakfast chat. “Oh, alright. I’ll see you later, then.”</p><p>          L stood from the table. “See you later,” he gave her a stiff wave before he turned on his heel to leave.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>          Kayla’s morning turned to afternoon after two back to back classes: Theories of Crime Causation and Public Speaking. She gave her email a quick peek before making a pit stop at the dining hall to fuel up before her third and final class of the day, Ethics. She walked briskly across campus, as the wait at the dining hall was much longer than she’d expected, and there was only a slim possibility of her making it to class on time. She nearly tripped when her cell phone suddenly rang loudly from inside her pocket. She hastily picked it up while continuing on her way.</p><p>          “Hello?” she answered the phone more loudly than she’d intended.</p><p>          “Hello, Kay.” It was L’s cool, monotone voice on the other line.</p><p>          Kayla balked on the sidewalk. Suddenly, her tardiness for class seemed to fall one rung on her ladder of priorities.</p><p>          “Kayla?” L said her entire first name this time.</p><p>          “Sorry,” breathed Kayla, and she blinked away her astonishment that the world’s greatest detective had casually called her on her personal cell phone. “Yes, h-hello, Cody.”</p><p>          “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you,” he muttered dryly.</p><p>          Kayla resumed walking toward the humanities building once more, albeit in much less of a hurry. “A bit,” she admitted. “I’m late for Ethics, so I’m not quite sure how long I can spend on the phone.”</p><p>          “If you’re already late,” L retorted, “does it truly matter if it’s by five minutes as opposed to seven? Ten?”</p><p><em>           As always, he's got a point</em>, thought Kayla. “What’s going on?” she asked, steering the conversation away from her tardiness.</p><p>          “Seeing as you believe you’re late for class,” L explained calmly, “I suppose you haven’t checked your email recently. Your Ethics class has been cancelled for today. I’ve already sent W to come and pick you up.”</p><p>          Kayla stopped in her tracks once more, and the strap of her messenger bag slid off of her shoulder and into the crease of her elbow, nearly causing her to drop the phone. She’d checked her email just before tea. Class would have had to have been cancelled within the last forty-five minutes for her to have missed a notification from her professor. It was virtually unheard of for a class to be called off so close to its start time. Did L just so happen to check his email the very moment it was sent out, or did he somehow play a role in its cancellation?</p><p>          “Oh,” she mumbled, her brow furrowing deeply. “Well, I’ll go drop my things off at my dorm and ready up, then.”</p><p>          “There’s no need,” said L. “W should be waiting for you in the parking lot beside the humanities building by the time you arrive there. You’ll be back at school tonight with plenty of time for homework. Needless to say, there’s plenty of room at headquarters for you to place your things down. Please, don’t worry.”</p><p>          Kayla’s lips pursed tightly, and she returned her messenger bag’s strap back to her shoulder. “I’m on my way.” She tried to conceal her frustration that L had taken the liberty of planning out her entire evening without any prior consultation.</p><p>          “I’ll... see you soon,” L had practically whispered.</p><p>          “Yes, you will.” Kayla felt her jaw relax as their phone call came to an end.</p><p>          As much as she had wanted to travel lightly to headquarters, she also wanted to ready herself personally for a night on the job with L. Her peach blouse and denim jeans didn’t feel appropriate for detective work, but they were suited fine for a day of classes. Her untidy top knot was beginning to topple sideways after half a day’s wear, and especially after rushing to her cancelled class. As per usual, there wasn’t a drop of makeup on her face. She certainly looked like Kay, although she was much less confident that she looked like a respectable detective. Kayla strode past the doors of the humanities building, avoiding the eyes of her very confused classmates, and made her way across the street to the parking lot.</p><p>          Sure enough, under the pink sky and bright orange sun, W’s sleek black car was the sole vehicle parked in the lot. The driver’s side door swung gently open, and out stepped W, wearing his typical black suit and warm grin.</p><p>          “Good evening,” W bowed to Kayla as she approached the car.</p><p>          “Good evening to you, too,” she replied, although it felt funny on her tongue, for it was barely past four.</p><p>          W briskly stepped around his car to open the backdoor for Kayla.</p><p>          “Thank you,” she uttered, ducking so she could sit herself in the backseat.</p><p>          As W drove off toward headquarters, Kayla tried her hardest to peer out the windows. Neither the side nor the back windows were conducive for outward gazing. She couldn’t see so much as to discern whether or not the street lamps had flickered on yet in the city. She spent some of the ride wondering how W could drive safely without the ability to see out of his rear window. She spent the rest of the ride fumbling with her jet-black locks in a somewhat futile attempt at a neater top knot. </p><p>          When she felt the car halt completely, Kayla instinctively reached for the door handle, but instantly retracted it. She remembered how embarrassed she’d felt after nearly striking sweet W. Kayla was blushing lightly when the door opened for her. Like yesterday, she was standing in the grey garage, and the only door to the outside was already shut tight.</p><p>          “If you would, Miss Kay,” said W, leading her toward the elevator, “L has requested that you create a profile in our system so that you may travel freely throughout headquarters without him or I needing to accompany you.”</p><p>          Kayla blinked. L certainly was full of surprises, wasn’t he? “Sure,” she agreed slowly as her racing thoughts caught up with her tongue.</p><p>          W planted himself at the computer adjacent to the elevator. The deep green screen lit up with jagged, white, monotype font.</p><p>
  <b>                    Please scan your hand.</b>
</p><p>          A thinner screen protruded out from the wall, and W laid his hand upon it for a few seconds. The text on the main screen changed as the scanner retracted back into the wall.</p><p>
  <b>                    Access granted, W.</b>
</p><p>          The elevator doors glided open, but W ignored them. Instead, he typed a code into the computer, which brought up a new window titled “Administrative Functions.” He pressed the downward facing arrow on the keyboard to select “create new user profile” under the first option, which was “emergency data deletion.” Kayla shuddered as she wondered what kind of dire circumstances would call for that option to be chosen. As another window popped up on the screen, the shift key on the right-hand side of the keyboard flipped itself upward on a ninety-degree angle, and a small vial protruded from underneath.</p><p>          W quietly cleared his throat. “A strand of your hair, please,” he requested firmly. “The system needs its users’ DNA for the safest, most accurate reads.”</p><p>          In compliance, Kayla reluctantly unraveled her hair from what she deemed a more acceptable top knot. She combed her fingers through for any stray hairs, and pulled out a thick strand for the vial. Upon placement of the hair, the vial lowered itself away, and the shift key returned to its normal position on the keyboard. The scanner glided out of the wall once more, and text appeared in a new “User Profile Creation” window.</p><p>
  <b>                    Place your hand on the scanner, and hold for one minute.</b>
</p><p>          Kayla did as she was told, and she watched the light on the scanner travel up and down the screen, scrutinizing every wrinkle and fingerprint on her delicate hand. </p><p>          “It shouldn’t take the full minute,” claimed W, his eyes on the screen whereon the scan was already said to be fifteen percent complete.</p><p>          Kayla nodded. She couldn’t help but wonder why L would trust her with free range of his private headquarters so quickly. How was it that he trusted her enough to go where she pleased inside, but not know the exact whereabouts of the building in regards to the city? At one-hundred percent, W stepped aside so that Kayla could stand at the keyboard. She was presented with a form to fill out.</p><p>
  <b>                    Name: Kayla “Kay” Taylor</b>
</p><p>
  <b>                    Date of Birth: 13 August 1982</b>
</p><p>
  <b>                    Height: 170cm</b>
</p><p>
  <b>                    Hair: Black, mid-length</b>
</p><p>
  <b>                    Eyes: Blue</b>
</p><p>
  <b>                    Codeword:</b>
</p><p>          “Sorry,” Kayla muttered. “What’s ‘codeword’?”</p><p>          “Ah,” W exhaled, “think of it like a password. If the system is unsure it’s you, you can input the codeword as a second form of security clearance. Of course, I’d advise it to be something only <em> you </em>would know.”</p><p>          “Alright, thank you.” Kayla thought about it for a moment. Her fingers found their way to type 15_Nov01: the date L revealed his identity to her in the cafeteria.</p><p>          Upon pressing the return key, a small camera peered out over the computer, and a live feed of her standing before it was shown on the screen. The “User Profile Creation” window now said “Account Photo”. Kayla’s heart dropped into her stomach. Silently cursing her sub-optimal appearance, she tugged on her hair so that it was strewn neatly over her right shoulder. W stepped further away so that he was entirely out of the frame. Kayla reluctantly pressed the return key, and it snapped a photo.</p><p>
  <b>                    Okay?</b>
</p><p>          Kayla suppressed a giggle. A top secret detective profile creation tool had the decency to ask whether the subject was happy with their photo. For the purpose of not wasting W’s or L’s time, she simply selected “yes”. </p><p>
  <b>                    PROFILE COMPLETE.</b>
</p><p>          The scanner presented itself once again, and, this time, Kayla simply placed her hand upon it.</p><p>
  <b>                    Access granted, Kay.</b>
</p><p>          The elevator doors opened, and the pair stepped inside. W pressed the buttons for floors one and three. The lift ascended up one floor, and a little <em> beep </em>sounded off as it passed the lobby; it came to a halt as it reached the first floor. The doors separated, revealing the sight of the gloomy floor full of computers and filing cabinets. At the middlemost computer was a familiar head of unkempt hair over a white long-sleeved tee. L swiveled his chair around to face the elevator at the sound of the doors opening, and rose to his feet at the sight of Kayla. His hands slid into his pockets.</p><p>          “Good evening, Kay,” he greeted her softly as she approached.</p><p>          “Hello,” said Kayla, folding her hands casually into one another. “Have we received the audit?”</p><p>          L’s reply sounded almost as if it were in slow motion, as he seemed to stare through her. “No, not yet.”</p><p>          Kayla felt her eyebrow instinctively twitch upward. “No?” She couldn’t help but wonder why L would have summoned her to headquarters if they were unable to continue with the Smithson investigation. “Is there other evidence to review?” she asked, separating her hands.</p><p>          “No,” admitted L, this time focusing on his bare feet upon the tiled floor. “However,” his eyes rose to meet hers once more, “if W does receive the audit this evening, having you here means that we can get to work on it immediately, should the need arise.”</p><p>          Kayla gave him a few little nods, understanding his point, however unsure that it was truly necessary to pick her up from school with such haste. “What should we do until then?”</p><p>          A tiny grin appeared on L’s face, and it seemed like a foreign thing beneath the lack of sleep in his eyes. He withdrew two boxes of playing cards from his pockets and dangled them delicately beside his head. “We could play a game.”</p><p>          An uncomfortable little scoff escaped Kayla. “A game?”</p><p>          “Yes, I have a simple one in mind, if you’d like to play.”</p><p>          “Alright,” she hesitantly agreed, “sure.” Her mind raced to think of what type of intricate card game they would be playing to test the other’s deductive skills.</p><p>          “We each have a deck of cards,” L explained. “Whoever can build the taller structure wins. That’s all there is to it.”</p><p>          Kayla blinked, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “Card castles?”</p><p>          L’s eyes darted away from Kayla, and then back again. “Sure, card castles. The loser, however, will have to tell the other a secret.”</p><p>          Kayla cautiously accepted the pack of cards from L. “Very well.” </p><p>          She watched as he thoughtlessly flipped his box over, allowing all fifty-two cards spill out onto the grey tile. Kayla, however, neatly removed her deck and properly closed the box. L crouched down on the floor beside her, and she followed by kneeling, maintaining her upright posture. She took two cards in either of her hands and delicately balanced them against one another, creating a small tent shape. L took a different approach. He balanced two cards on their sides, creating a T shape. He went on to add another to create an I, and so forth. </p><p>          Kayla couldn’t help but wonder if she stood a chance against him. What sort of secret could L even be comfortable sharing with a new team member? What sort of secret would she be able to reveal to him? Her fingers trembled as she went to add a second level to her card castle. She drew a deep breath before releasing her cards, which remained upright. Her eyes traveled back over toward L, who was intently focused on piling cards atop his foundation. A few strands of his messy hair found their way over his eyes, but he paid them no mind. Kayla couldn’t help but feel a little special to be the person L wanted to play cards with.</p><p>          Her heartbeat quickened as she reached for an additional two cards. She couldn’t seem to stop her fingers from trembling this time, but, somehow, her structure remained standing. Soon enough, her castle was ready for a third floor. Unfortunately for Kayla, so was L’s. Similar to their A levels, they were neck and neck once again. She was cognizant of how she was moving to ensure no air flow would crumble her fragile walls. She refused to release her cards until they fit snugly together, but every time she caught a glance of L in her peripherals, her fingertips became harder to bestill.</p><p>          And so, before a fourth floor could be erected, Kayla’s castle tumbled to four-suited rubble. She lowered herself into a seated position and released a sharp, little sigh. L turned his head in her direction, mindlessly placing his final two cards onto the roof of his third layer without looking.</p><p>          “That’s too bad,” he said, cupping his hands over his knees.</p><p>          Kayla still felt jitters in her hands even though she was no longer building under pressure. She gave L a shrug and a grin to accompany it. “Cards aren’t my forte.”</p><p>          “Was that a pun?” something of a small smile formed on half of L’s mouth. “We were building forts, after all.”</p><p>          Kayla giggled. “Not on purpose.”</p><p>          “Well, Kay,” L shifted so that he was now facing her head on, “what’s your secret?”</p><p>          Her heart bolted up into her throat. “Eh-erm,” she stammered, searching deep within her brainfor something personal she’d be willing to share with someone as esteemed as the man before her. “You’re the reason I’ve signed up for so many classes. I wanted to graduate early so that I could climb the ranks and work with you someday. Needless to say, I didn’t expect it to go quite like this...” another laugh pushed its way past the lump in her throat, then she pursed her lips tightly into a rigid smile.</p><p>          “It certainly is interesting to see the way things turn out,” stated L, and there was a surprising energy behind his tired eyes.</p><p>          “It is,” she nodded.</p><p>          “In the small time we’ve spent together, I’ve learned quite a lot about you,” L said. “Our little game was especially telling. I believe we’ll work quite well together on this case.”</p><p>          Kayla’s heart returned to her chest, where it thudded loudly. “Thank you. Although, I’m curious... what could you possibly have learned by building card castles with me?”</p><p>          L counted on his fingers. “You’re a risk-taker, however, everything is calculated before you take a leap. You radiate confidence, however...” L’s voice trailed off, and his eyes shifted to Kayla’s flattened tower. “It appears as though I make you nervous.”</p><p>          Kayla seemed to forget to breathe. She opened her mouth to refute his comment, but nothing came out.</p><p>          “That’s a bit of a shame,” L added. “I always thought we’d make excellent friends.”</p><p>          “Always?” croaked Kayla, perhaps as crimson as the Queen of Hearts in the pile beside her.</p><p>          “We’ve had every class together since August. I suppose I did a rather good job at blending in. Our major is a little bit of a mixed bag, but it was nice to learn that you were an L fan.”</p><p>          After having drawn a few deep breaths to return her face to its normal color, Kayla was red yet again. How could he have possibly learned that without talking to her? Were all of the scribblings in the margins of her copybooks about the cases L had been working on that obvious?</p><p>          “Well,” she smirked, “it’s comforting to know that you’ve always been a Kay fan.”</p><p>          L turned his body to face his nearly four story card tower. With a surprisingly spry extension of his leg, his cards came falling down, joining Kay’s pile on the tile.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          A few days passed during which Kayla would spend her mornings and afternoons at university, and her evenings with L. L had already withdrawn from school so that he could focus all of his attention on solving various cases simultaneously. He and W would meet Kayla after her classes and drive her back to headquarters until she would return to her dormitory for bed. Her roommate was under the impression that she was heavily involved on campus. On this day, Kayla arrived at headquarters to the sight of L maintaining his unique posture, examining a brown leather notebook. Her footsteps towards him didn't break his concentration. When she sat down in the beside L, the squeak of the metal beneath her caused him to look up over what he'd been reading.</p><p>          “Oh, Kay,” L finally noticed her. “I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been there?”</p><p>          “Only a moment,” Kayla replied. “What are you reading?”</p><p>          “This is Smithson’s medical audit," he said, dangling the book before him using only his thumbs and forefingers. "I’ve already read through it several times and compared it to his colleagues’.”</p><p>          Kayla suppressed a gasp. <em>What?! He would have acquired it at some point this morning. He must be a awfully quick reader... </em></p><p>          “As I figured, Dr. Smithson’s elderly patients are dying at a rapid pace, while his younger patients remain in good health. Of course, I’ve picked up on other variations as well. The deaths seem to be clustered at certain times of the day - usually between the late morning and early afternoon. Most of them are on Sundays. Patients’ records and current symptoms seem to mismatch, or chest pains are suddenly documented within one year before the patient dies. Also, and what I found to be the most convincing, is that Dr. Smithson was usually in attendance at the time of death for each of the victims.” He set the book down beside his computer.</p><p>          “We should question some of his patients,” suggested Kayla, nearly trembling with enthusiasm. “I think they might have some vital information about the way he works. Maybe he’s pushing medications on them? We should probably hear their opinions.”</p><p>          L bit down on his thumbnail, and his eyes rose gradually to meet Kayla’s.</p><p>          “Hmm... Perhaps we should. If we’re going to be so bold as to question his patients, we should have his coworkers come in as well.”</p><p>          “Yes,” Kayla nodded eagerly, nearly choking on her excitement to finally get started on the case. “Great idea.”</p><p>          L pressed a button on his keyboard, which brought forth a bold, black W on a white background on his computer screen.</p><p>          “Cody, what is it?” asked W’s voice calmly.</p><p>          “We’ll need a handful of Dr. Smithson’s coworkers and patients to come in for questioning,” said L. "Could you arrange that?"</p><p>          “I’ll get right on it,” W declared.</p><p>          As the call ended, Kayla heard small footsteps on the tiled floor behind her. She turned her head, to see a woman exiting the adjacent room full of filing cabinets. She wore a black turtle neck sweater and denim jeans, which were tucked into black knee-high boots. Her auburn hair was cut in a sleek, chin-length bob.</p><p>          “‘Ello,” greeted the female softly through cherry-red lips. </p><p>          “Oh, Kayla, I almost forgot,” said L without the tone of surprise one typically used upon the realization that they’ve forgotten something. “This is Abigail Troye. I’ve hired her to investigate Dr. Smithson in person privately. In fact, she’ll be going to his office tomorrow.”</p><p>          “Yes,” Abigail chimed in, extending an arm to Kayla. “It’s nice to meet you.”</p><p>          “You too,” Kayla gave her a firm handshake and a little smile. “I’m Kay.”</p><p>          “Abigail. Looking forward to working with you both!” She grinned warmly.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>          It was barely a week later that W secured interviews with patients and colleagues of Dr. Smithson. Kayla arrived at headquarters dressed to the nines in a crisp white blouse and freshly ironed black dress pants. Her hair was slicked back with hairspray and secured with a rigid headband so that she wouldn’t fuss with it during her busy evening. She was tasked with questioning three of Smithson’s patients one-on-one. After checking into headquarters by the elevator, she pressed the button with the letter L to ascend to the lobby. </p><p>          The lobby was the most brightly lit floor Kayla had seen yet. A golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the cream colored walls in a warm glow. Rounded arm chairs lined the walls, each with a side table with a vase containing a single yellow rose in the center. Kayla walked to the door furthest from the elevator and stopped for a moment before proceeding through. She gave her hands a brief shake to loosen up a bit, and drew a deep breath to calm her nerves. She then reached for the brass doorknob, and pushed the door open.</p><p>          It was a small room, however, it was much more inviting than that of a typical interrogation room. The floor was covered in cobalt carpet, and two white armchairs sat opposite one another with a marble coffee table in between them. Light refreshments sat on a ceramic lazy susan: white and red grapes, cheese, crackers, and chocolate. Kayla remained stoic despite her shock, silently lauding L for his comfortable, unconventional approach to interrogation. She gave a polite smile to her first guest of the evening - a middle-aged man with neatly combed dark hair and an inviting smile.</p><p>          “Good evening,” Kayla greeted him, extending her hand to shake his, “I’m Detective Kline.”</p><p>          “Derrick Lee,” he accepted her handshake.</p><p>          “Thank you for meeting with me tonight on such short notice,” Kayla sat herself down in her white chair. “This shouldn’t take up too much of your time.”</p><p>          “No problem, no problem,” Mr. Lee waved away her pleasantries.</p><p>          “How long have you been a patient of Dr. Smithson’s?” Kayla prepared her pen on her clipboard to take hasty notes.</p><p>          Mr. Lee’s gaze drifted upward as he counted the years backward. “About ten years now. Since April or May of ‘91.”</p><p>          “Ten years - that’s a decent amount of time. You must be happy with his service, then?”</p><p>          “Oh yeah, yeah,” Mr. Lee nodded, his eyebrows scrunching together as he did. “He’s usually so quick and to the point. The kids and I are always in and out of there.”</p><p>          Kayla spoke as she jotted down bullet points. “Your children are patients of Dr. Smithson’s as well?”</p><p>          “Yes, but not my wife.” Mr. Lee nodded again. “She switched doctors when she heard about this murder mumbo jumbo. I told her it’d all blow over, but she said she ‘<em>had a feeling </em>.’” He raised his hands to mime quotations around his wife’s words. “I think we’d know if he was a bad guy by now.”</p><p>          “Is there anything at all - anything over the last five years - that's even rubbed you the wrong way about the doctor? Anything he’s said, or done?”</p><p>          Mr. Lee frowned and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. He seems like a smart guy.”</p><p> </p><p>          Later, Kayla met with Ms. Levi, a fifty-two-year-old widow who had been a patient of Doctor Smithson’s for most of her adult life.</p><p>          “I mean, he’s always a bit curt,” admitted Ms. Levi. Her voice quivered a bit as she spoke. “Always impersonal - as though there’s an invisible wall between him and you. But he seems to know what he’s on about when he gives diagnoses. Damn near would’ve had pneumonia a few years ago if it weren’t for him.”</p><p>          Kayla took down notes as neatly as possible, hoping she’d still be able to decipher her frantic handwriting in evidence review. <em> Curt, impersonal, accurate diagnoses. </em> When she stopped writing, she locked eyes with Ms. Levi. “Do you trust him?”</p><p>          Ms. Levi blinked several times, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why, yes... he’s never steered me wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>          The third patient of Dr. Smithson’s to come in for an interview was a relatively new patient of his. A man in his early sixties, Mr. Daniels was concise and to the point.</p><p>          “How do you feel about the news lately?” inquired Kayla, the tip of her pen ready to move across the lined paper on her clipboard. “Are you concerned as a patient of Dr. Smithson’s?”</p><p>          Mr. Daniels shrugged. “A little, but the police aren’t, so I don’t see the point in all this.”</p><p><em>           Few concerns b/c law disinterest</em>, she scribbled. “Even though we - a private group - are investigating, you still aren’t concerned?”</p><p>          “I <em> did </em> say I was a <em> little </em> concerned,” reiterated Mr. Daniels hotly. “If he’s really killing us oldheads, well, that just wouldn't do. My band would be lost without me.” He gave a chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>          That evening, Kayla, Abigail, and L reconvened on the evidence review floor with their notes in hand. Between them sat a tray of parfaits layered with custard, graham crackers, and assorted berries.</p><p>          “Kay, why don’t you begin?” suggested L, snatching up a parfait and pulling the spoon out of the cup and towards his mouth.</p><p>          Kayla glanced down at her notes. “I have to be honest - his patients seem to really like him. He might not treat them like family, but he seems to have their best interest in mind.”</p><p>          “Interesting...” L’s voice trailed off. “Officer Troye?”</p><p>          “His colleagues say <em> quite </em> the opposite,” proclaimed Abigail with a little giggle. “All of them went on and on about his arrogance. He’s apparently very rude towards them.”</p><p>          “So he puts on airs for his patients,” concluded Kayla aloud, adding to her notes.</p><p>          “To an extent,” L chimed in. “It doesn’t sound like he goes out of his way to be warm to them. His patients are satisfied, but his colleagues aren’t. Looks like we’ll have to do more digging.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          L had suggested they meet in a more comfortable place to discuss the case: an unoccupied floor of the building. He and Kayla sat on either end of a bright red sofa behind a cherrywood coffee table. Abigail paced back and forth to Kayla’s left near the kitchen counter, her arms crossed tightly against her chest.</p><p>          “I asked him if there was any cause for concern, and he said <em>‘no, there isn’t.’</em>” Abigail passionately flailed her hands as she spoke. “He showed me the certificate book for the causes of death, and, what he said was,” she lowered her voice and scrunched up her face to sound more like the doctor, “'<em>Nothing to worry about. You've nothing to worry about, and anybody who wants to inspect this book can.</em>’ So I felt like I didn’t really have to take any further action there. He showed me the book without hesitation.”</p><p>          Kayla shot a glance at L. She was not so readily appeased, so she was certain that L was most likely dissatisfied with Abigail’s report as well. L remained silent, his pointer finger by his chin. Before he could reply, there was a knock on the door. When Abigail pulled it open, W walked in with a tray of tea and blueberry scones.</p><p>          “I’ve news,” announced W as he stepped through the door and set the silver tray on the coffee table. “Law enforcement has contacted me saying that they’ve been receiving a number of worrisome calls from funeral homes about the number of deaths of Dr. Smithson’s patients. There was also quite a lot of puzzlement about the condition of the deceased when they were discovered. They were mostly female, living on their own, found sitting in a chair, dressed proper."</p><p>          “Anybody can die in a chair," L pondered aloud, "but Smithson's always seem to be the same, or very similar. It just seems the person, where they were, had died. There’s something that doesn't quite fit...”</p><p>          The room fell silent. Abigail leaned on the kitchen counter, and Kayla’s brow furrowed deep. W noiselessly excused himself with a bow, and left the three of them with their thoughts.</p><p>          “Well,” L began, “I will need both of your full cooperation on this case if we want to solve it before more deaths occur.” He shifted on the sofa to face Kayla and Abigail more properly. “Kayla, I’m afraid you would have to stop attending school for this case. Ms. Troye, you would have to give up your job as a private I.”</p><p>          A small gasp escaped Kayla. <em> What? Quit uni? As much as I want to say that’s not an option... look where I am. I’m working alongside L, the world’s greatest detective, face to face! Instead of studying to be a detective, maybe I could be an apprentice of some kind to him. Maybe I could work on future cases with him too... </em> </p><p>          “I’d be willing to stop attending school to help with this case,” claimed Kayla adamantly, her cheeks reddening.</p><p>          “I’m new to the company,” Abigail shrugged. “I have so much to learn from them. But still, you’ve given me more hands on to do in the short time I’ve been here than they have. So, I’d be willing to stay. I like the both of you!”</p><p>          “Well, that’s good,” said L. “Kay, you’re free to remain in school. Abigail, you’re free to keep your job. Do with those obligations as you wish, but I still expect a lot from both of you.”</p><p>          Kayla visibly swallowed. <em>It was a test.</em> <em>He expects a lot from me...</em></p><p>          “However, Kay, I’m going to cancel your living arrangements at university. It would be much easier if the two of you lived at headquarters for now. You can share this floor, in fact.”</p><p>          “Oh, alright...” Kayla answered, her head spinning. She discreetly pinched her upper thigh to make sure that she wasn't dreaming.</p><p>          “Ms. Troye, I ask that you keep the fact that you’re working side by side with me on this case a complete secret. As far as this case goes, you’ve never seen me. You’re working under me. You can check in with your higher-ups so that they know what’s going on, but no one can know that you know exactly who I am.”</p><p>          “Right, got it,” Abigail nodded.</p><p>          L stood and shuffled his way towards the door. “I will call you via video if I need you for anything. To answer, just press the return key on your computer. Should you need me, you can contact me by clicking the call button on the video program. It’s quite simple to figure out. I’m sure the both of you can handle it.”</p><p>          “Hey,” Abigail stood tall and firmly planted her hands onto her hips before L could pull the door open, “do we have to worry about an invasion of privacy with that computer camera?”</p><p>          “I assure you, there is absolutely no way I could call, hear, or watch you in secret. There are no wiretaps in your room, and I can only see you on my computer if you can see me on yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some other work I need to attend to.” He slipped out through the door of the girls’ new place.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>          Kayla stared at the ceiling as she lay on her back upon her duvet. Despite her many efforts, her eyelids refused to become any heavier; she wasn’t going to fall asleep any time soon. As she turned over onto her side, the scent of her brand new pillowcase stirred a rush of gratitude within her. It was still difficult for her to believe. She was sleeping at L’s headquarters, working side by side with the man she longed to meet her entire life. <em> I ought to find a way to thank him for allowing me to stay here</em>. Kayla rose to her feet and tiptoed out into the main room of her and Abigail’s floor. L struck her as a night owl, so she did not bother to check the time. She didn’t want to wake her roommate, so she quietly slipped out of the door and onto the elevator. </p><p>          The lift descended downwards to the evidence review floor, where she knew L spent the majority of his time. With a soft <em> ding</em>, the elevator doors parted. Kayla stepped out onto the tile, and made her way toward the long table of computers. Without the computer screens or lights on, it was incredibly difficult to see where she was going. The only light source was that of the golden screensaver that slowly faded on and off of the large screen on the wall. Kayla’s eyes scanned the room from right to left, but L was not seated in any of the chairs. She felt a pang of disappointment as she made her way toward one of the computers. It was L’s computer. <em>I really thought he’d still be down here</em>. Kayla curiously poked the mouse, which woke the monitor from a black screen. A small <em> “call” </em> button was hovering just under the cursor, and Kayla found herself clicking it before she even realized her fingers had moved. Immediately, a bold, black W on a white background appeared on the screen.</p><p>          “W?” whispered Kayla.</p><p>          “Miss Kay? Yes, what is it? Is everything alright?” W’s voice shook with exhaustion.</p><p>          “I’m sorry. It really is quite late, isn’t it? I wasn’t thinking,” Kayla covered her mouth with her hand.</p><p>          “What do you need, my dear?” asked W sweetly.</p><p>          “I suppose I'm a bit curious... Maybe I could ask you? Oh, I don’t know...”</p><p>          “You have my attention now. It’s no trouble at all.”</p><p>          W’s kindness never ceased to amazed Kayla. </p><p>          “Does,” she began, “Cody smile often?”</p><p>          Kayla heard W shift in his chair. </p><p>          “Perhaps less often than the ordinary young man. Is there a reason you’re asking me, Miss Kay?”</p><p>          Kayla opened and closed her mouth. She tried to choose her words carefully, and she spoke at a much more delayed pace than her heartbeat. “I feel like I need to thank him, you know, for this opportunity. I feel like a dream's come true when he's in the room. I wondered... I wondered if a few smiles would be proper payment. I know he quite fancies sweets, but you seem to have that area covered.” Kayla noticed herself shivering as she laughed at her own jest. The room wasn’t cold, however. The air actually felt quite warm on her skin at that moment.</p><p>          “Ah, I see.” A soft sigh came through the computer speakers. “Miss Kay, I do believe Cody is aware, to some degree, of your gratitude. However, if you truly wanted to thank him, he might appreciate some company more than anything. He’s worked alone for a very long time, you see, and I’ve noticed a few more of those rare smiles as of late.”</p><p>          Kayla beamed. “Thank you very much, W. Although... I don’t suppose I should go looking for him now?”</p><p>          “The hour may seem inappropriate,” W began, “but Cody is more than likely still awake. Perhaps he’ll find you before you find him.”</p><p>          “I’m so sorry if I woke you.”</p><p>          “Nonsense. I’m happy to be of service. Goodnight now.”</p><p>          “Goodnight, W.”</p><p>          The W disappeared from the computer screen, and Kayla backed away from the table. <em> I should get back to bed. I can find L in the morning. </em> As the screen saver faded to black, and room was covered in shadow, Kayla turned on her heel and made her way toward the elevator. She only made it two strides before walking straight into something she could not see, and tripping over her feet. She fell onto the tiled floor, hitting her shoulder first.</p><p>          “Bloody hell,” Kayla muttered under her breath as she gripped her right shoulder.</p><p>          “I didn’t mean to startle you,” a soft, monotone voice cut through the darkness. “Perhaps I should have turned a light on when I came in.”</p><p>          Kayla’s entire face burned red. As the golden light filled the room once more, she could see that it was L. As she scrambled to her feet, she couldn't discern if he had been smiling at her, or if it had been a trick of the lighting.</p><p>          “How long have you been standing there?” asked Kayla, gently massaging her shoulder.</p><p>          “Oh, I’ve just arrived. You see, I heard the elevator moving.” L’s eyes fell upon Kayla’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”</p><p>          “Peachy.” Kayla smiled and let her hand fall at her side.</p><p>          “What were you doing down here so late at night?" L asked. "If you wanted a midnight snack, there should be plenty upstairs already.”</p><p>          “No, no, it’s not that,” Kayla stifled a giggle. “I was actually... I was actually looking for you.”</p><p>          “Looking for me,” L repeated. “Why were you looking for me?”</p><p>          “I wanted to thank you.” Kayla felt her chest tighten. “I just don’t know how. This opportunity means a great deal to me.”</p><p>          L did not immediately reply. He held a few strands of his hair between his forefinger and thumb, and his eyes were focused elsewhere in the dark room. “Me too,” he admitted softly.</p><p>          Kayla’s brow furrowed. She did not know whether or not L meant that he wanted to thank her as well, or if having her there to help with the case also meant a lot to him.</p><p>          “You too, what?” she asked.</p><p>          “Thank you, Kay.” There was an unmistakable grin on his face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>           Be</em><em>ep! Beep! Beep! Beep! </em> Kayla rolled over in her bed, and she slowly opened her eyes. <em> Beeping? Beeping! Oh! L is calling us! </em> She rolled out of bed as quickly as she could, and bolted into the adjacent room. A few feet across from the kitchen counter was a cherrywood desk that housed a large, white desktop computer. Kayla attempted to tidy up her appearance as best as she could. She couldn’t stand to have <em> the L </em> see her so frazzled. As Kayla tugged away at her hair, Abigail entered the room with a yawn and joined her by the computer.</p><p>“You’ve got to be joking,” Abigail gave a hoarse laugh. “You’re fixing your hair?” She pressed the return key.</p><p>“I like to look presentable for the boss, thank you very much.” Kayla averted her gaze towards the screen, whereupon L already had been staring silently back at the two of them.</p><p>“Good morning,” L greeted them softly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”</p><p>“It’s no trouble,” Kayla grinned, realizing that her hair looked no less a mess than L’s.</p><p>“I have news. If you could both join me downstairs as soon as possible, I’d appreciate it.”</p><p>“Sure,” answered Abigail. “We’ll get changed and head on down.”</p><p>“See you soon,” added Kayla.</p><p>“Yes, see you soon,” L replied stiffly, and the video call ended.</p><p>Upon changing out of their sleepwear, Kayla and Abigail made their way downstairs where L, as usual, was sitting in his silver chair with his bare feet perched on the edge of his seat. “W has informed me that Dr. Smithson’s records have been examined and given a clean bill of health,” L began the moment the women were in earshot of him. “The causes of death of his patients and their symptoms apparently match up perfectly.”</p><p>“Hmm, well <em> that’s </em>something to think about...” Kayla took up a seat beside him.</p><p>“Oh!” exclaimed Abigail, slapping a palm to her forehead. “In all the rush, I completely forgot to call the boss this morning for a report. I’m sorry, Cody, would you excuse me for a minute?”</p><p>“Go right ahead.”</p><p>Abigail hurried out of the room and into the stairwell. Upon her exit, Kayla felt her mobile phone begin to vibrate. She retrieved it from her pocket to see her grandmother’s telephone number upon the screen.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I know you hate cell phones. It’s my Gran. Could I answer?”</p><p>“By all means.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Kayla flipped her phone open. “Hello?”</p><p>“Miss Kayla Taylor?” asked an older, male voice from the other end of the line.</p><p>“This is Kayla, yes. And who might this be, calling from my grandmother’s phone?” She planted her free hand on her hip, and her brow furrowed.</p><p>“This is her doctor, Henry Smithson.”</p><p>Kayla felt her heart drop into her stomach. Suddenly, a heavy weight planted itself onto her chest, making it difficult to breathe. “Dr. Smithson?”</p><p>L slowly turned his head in her direction, his unblinking eyes wide. Kayla activated the speaker option on her phone so that the call would play at a volume which L could listen in.</p><p>“Yes,” replied Dr. Smithson. “I’m calling about Catherine.”</p><p>Kayla tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat; her mouth dried up in an instant. “W-what about her? Is she alright?”</p><p>“I don’t believe she has a need for that now.”</p><p><em>           What does that mean? </em> Kayla noticed L change his focus from her phone to her face. “What does that mean? What have you done?” Kayla’s voice shook.</p><p>“I’ve not done a thing, dear. I was merely too late.”</p><p>“Too late?" Kayla trembled all over. "Doctor, is my grandmother... is she... <em> dead </em> ?” <em> No, no. This can’t be. It can't. </em>Kayla’s eyes welled with tears.</p><p>“I’m sorry for your loss, miss.” </p><p><em>           You don’t sound sorry. </em> Kayla did not answer Dr. Smithson. She closed her phone and dropped it onto the tiled floor. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor in sobs. <em> Gran gone? She was fine when she called just a few days ago! He... he... that murderer! </em>The familiar sound of L’s chair creaking as he shifted positions sounded. Kayla did not bother to look up or apologize for her behavior. Her grandmother had been the woman who raised her. She hadn’t seen her Gran in what felt like a lifetime. Now that she had been stolen away from her, Kayla felt that she deserved a few moments to cry. Unexpectedly, she felt a hand on either of her shoulders. Kayla lifted her head to see L crouching before her.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said gently.</p><p>Kayla wrapped both of her hands around L’s left, squeezing it tightly as if she were afraid to lose him as well. </p><p>“We’ll solve this,” she claimed adamantly. “I won’t let you or Gran down.” More tears spilled down her cheeks, and she boldly rested her head upon L's hand. L leaned toward her slowly, and draped an arm loosely around her back.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>* * *</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Kayla tried her best to smile more with each day that passed. The day of her grandmother’s burial was especially hard for her. L, since he needed to keep his identity and the fact that he and Kayla knew one another a secret, did not attend the funeral. Abigail did, for which Kayla would be forever grateful. However, on the way back to headquarters from the cemetery, Kayla received a troubling phone call from solicitors. They claimed to have a copy of her grandmother’s will, but Kayla remembered overhearing her grandmother saying that a firm by a different name held the document. A copy of the will that these solicitors mentioned had been mailed to Catherine's house so that Kayla could pick it up. So, instead of returning to headquarters, Kayla and Abigail made their way to Kayla’s childhood home. As Kayla stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her home, she exhaled sharply. The memory of her grandmother greeting her with a warm hug and her famous homemade cocoa tugged at her heartstrings. Fighting the tears that threatened to push out of her eyes, Kayla walked toward the familiar navy-blue mailbox. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>* * *</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“I actually almost considered that it was a twisted practical joke of some kind,” Kayla seethed, tightly gripping the bottom of her silver chair on the evidence review floor. She did her very best to keep her voice down, but she wasn’t quite succeeding. “The will is so badly typed, and it leaves her entire life’s savings to Dr. Smithson. If I was capable of laughing about this, I probably would.”</p><p>L, who had been examining the document closely, poked his head over the piece of paper to gaze at Kayla and Abigail.</p><p>"Gran was the most organised person I knew. Anybody who knew her knew the way she liked things done. T’s crossed and I’s dotted and all that," she explained. “The thought of her signing a document that was so badly typed doesn't make any sense to me. The signature looks strange too. It looks too big. And the mere concept of Gran signing a document leaving everything to her new doctor isn't even remotely believable to say the <em>absolute</em> <em> very </em> least.” </p><p>Kayla took a deep breath before she continued. She didn’t want to cry in front of L any more than she had in the past week since her Gran had passed. “He clearly murdered her for a profit. I mean, you only have to look at that document once to know it's off of some homemade printing press. You don't have to have twenty years’ experience as a detective to know it's a fake. Maybe he thought he was being clever – an old lady with nobody around her..."</p><p>“Kay,” L interjected, “you said you had a sample of your grandmother’s handwriting? I’d like to see it to compare the signatures.”</p><p>“Yes, here.” Kayla dug into the pocketbook that had been slung over her shoulder and seized a note that her Gran had written to her during her mid-term exams at university.</p><p>L’s eyes moved swiftly from left to right across the handwritten note. “Well, in order to prove that this was, in fact, a murder, a post mortem is necessary. We’ll need to obtain an exhumation order from the coroner as soon as possible.” L turned to his computer, ignoring Kayla’s wincing at his words. “W?”</p><p>A familiar bold, black W appeared on his screen.</p><p>“Yes?” came W’s gentle voice from the computer speaker.</p><p>“Contact the coroner from Catherine Taylor’s funeral. In order to prove that she has been murdered, a post mortem is required. Therefore, we need an exhumation order from him.”</p><p>“I’m on it,” replied W, and the call window disappeared.</p><p>L then turned to face Abigail and Kayla, who had both been fighting back tears.</p><p>“At the same time, I’ll need Abigail to do something for the case as well.”</p><p>“Yes?” Abigail asked, leaning forward in her chair.</p><p>“With some comrades from the police, raid the Smithson household within the next two days. This must be done quickly so that there is no chance he knows of a body being exhumed for a post mortem. We must be certain that <em> no </em> evidence could be destroyed or concealed before the search.”</p><p>“Yes, I can do that. I’ll ring the boys tonight.”</p><p>Kayla stared at her feet. <em> I need to be strong. I need to help solve this case to prevent more deaths. I need to prove myself to L. </em> When she lifted her head, she noticed L’s eyes shift from Abigail to herself. His hand slipped into his jeans’ pocket and pulled out three foil-wrapped candies. He grabbed hold of Kayla’s wrist and placed them into her upturned palm. <em> Chocolate kisses. </em></p><p>“Thank you,” Kayla managed a smile, and her eyes began to dry.</p><p>L merely stared back at her, something of a grin beginning on his face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>           “H</em><em>e didn’t seem surprised to see us at all,” explained Abigail. </em> She, Kayla, and L were seated at the girls’ kitchen counter. “But we did find something pretty important.” Abigail patted the old-style typewriter she’d confiscated from the raid.</p><p>“Oh, an old Brother manual portable.” L observed, his thumb pressing into his lips. “Interesting.”</p><p>“He told us some load of rubbish that Kay’s Gran used to borrow this sometimes.”</p><p>Kayla scoffed. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. She has a proper computer at home. She’d have no reason to use a ratty old typewriter like this.”</p><p>“It seems to be in very good condition, actually,” L chimed in, poking some of the keys, which were fully functional.</p><p>“We also found some medical records and some mysterious jewelry.” Abigail pushed a manila envelope toward L, who took it. “His house was pretty unsanitary for a doctor. There were newspapers, tissues, and clothes lying all around on the floor. It smelled awfully bad too, but there were no signs of any pets anywhere.”</p><p><em>           Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! </em> Kayla, L, and Abigail simultaneously turned around. L leapt deftly across the room and pressed the return button on the ladies’ computer. A large W appeared upon the ladies’ computer screen.</p><p>“W,” said L.</p><p>“Cody, I’ve news. The toxicologist has filed her report on the cause of Ms. Taylor’s death.”</p><p>“And?” coaxed L.</p><p>“It was copious amounts of morphine in her bloodstream that ultimately led to her demise.”</p><p>Kayla closed her eyes tightly as her heart slid into her throat.</p><p>“According to the toxicologist," W relayed, "her death would have occurred within three hours of receiving a fatal overdose."</p><p>Kayla’s stomach turned and twisted. She rose to snatch a water bottle from the fridge to settle it.</p><p>“Thank you, W,” said L, ending the call. He turned to face the girls. “A doctor who uses morphine to murder his patients is quite a foolish one. Someone of his caliber should know that morphine is one of the few poisons to remain in the human body for centuries. Kay, I’m sorry to put you through this, but I want to bring in Doctor Smithson for questioning. I think it's time we spoke with him.”</p><p><em>           He doesn't sound awfully sorry. </em> “It’s important that we do that,” Kayla responded halfheartedly.</p><p>“Yes, it is. If we can get any kind of a confession out of him, then we are free to put him behind bars until he receives a trial.”</p><p>“Yes,” Kayla answered.</p><p>“Abigail, question the families of those with relatives who died under Smithson’s care. I’d like to learn as much as possible about the deaths of the other patients.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“And the Katsukawa family,” Abigail went on after she’d returned from victim interrogations, “wanted a proper burial for Grandma Katsu, but Smithson pushed for her to be cremated. It seems like he really pushed for cremation wherever he could.” Abigail scoffed. “These poor families. They <em> all </em> claimed to have trusted him. After all, all of the causes of death Smithson presented were rational - heart attack, stroke, old age... However, the families claimed to never know about any of the symptoms that Smithson would claim were present in the victims. Even if they questioned the doctor about the symptoms, he produced medical records to prove them wrong.”</p><p>“Hmm,” L replied, while Kayla seethed in silence. “He could have altered those computerized records to match his patient’s cause of death - most likely <em> after </em> he committed the murders.” He called W via the girls’ computer.</p><p>“What is it, Cody?” asked W.</p><p>“Have someone investigate Dr. Smithson’s hard drive. I’d like to know if he’s altered his victims’ records before we see him for questioning.”</p><p>“Yes, of course.” The W disappeared from the computer screen.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Kayla drew a long, deep breath as she strode through the lobby. Her fingers trembled as she wrapped her hand around the brass doorknob. <em> If it weren’t L asking, I wouldn’t have been able to agree to this. </em>As she pushed the door open, Kayla’s eyes fell onto the aging man sitting cross-legged in the white armchair in the center of the room.</p><p>“Good afternoon,” the man greeted her curtly before she had even closed the door.</p><p>“Good afternoon,” Kayla replied formally, closing the door quietly. “I assume you know why you’re here, Dr. Smithson.”</p><p>“Yes, I certainly do, ma’am.”</p><p>“Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time, so we might as well get straight to it.” Kayla was not entirely sure that she was being as professional as she should be during an interrogation, especially with L eavesdropping from the evidence review floor, but her emotional attachment to the case was threatening to consume her.</p><p>“Of course,” Dr. Smithson nodded.</p><p>“Okay. Allow me to refresh your memory of all of the events that occurred on the date of Ms. Taylor’s death. It was the eleventh of December of this year. After three o’clock in the afternoon that day, you endorsed the computer with the date of February the first of 2002, exactly ten months prior, with the symptom ‘chest pains.’ Yes?”</p><p>“I do not recall putting that into the machine,” Dr. Smithson claimed, scratching the grey stubble on his chin.</p><p>“Well, sir, we have proof that the edits were made under your passcode and name, and you did just that.” Kayla promptly removed a sheet of paper from her clipboard and presented it to the doctor.</p><p>“It doesn’t alter the fact that I do not remember doing such a thing.” He didn't even glance at the paper, and he handed it back to Kayla.</p><p>“You attended the house at three o’clock on the eleventh of December of this year. That’s when you injected Catherine Taylor with morphine. You went back to the surgery and immediately began altering her medical records. Why did you need to change the records?” Kayla swallowed.</p><p>“There’s no answer for me to give you.” His tired eyes met her fiery gaze.</p><p><em>           Good! That’s right! </em>“The levels were such that this woman died from toxicity of morphine, not as you wrongly diagnosed. In plain speaking, you murdered her. Her family couldn't believe their own grandmother had angina they knew nothing about.”</p><p>“By - by whom?” asked Doctor Smithson, leaning forward toward Kayla.</p><p>“By <em> her</em>, doctor.” Kayla strained herself to keep a professional tone.</p><p>“By her.” The doctor ceased leaning. “Yes, yes of course... Thank you.”</p><p>Disregarding his thanks, Kayla continued to grill him. “Ms. Taylor’s family also found her sudden death incredibly difficult to believe because she never complained about any of the symptoms you claimed were ailing her. No chest pains, no abdominal pains. She never suffered from either of those things, did she?”</p><p>“If it was written in my records, she had the history; therefore - ”</p><p>“The simple truth is you've fabricated a history to cover what you've done,” Kayla spoke over his babbling. “You murdered her and made up a history of angina and abdominal pains so you could issue a death certificate and placate the woman's family, didn't you?”</p><p>“No.” Smithson was adamant, his eyes burning. “She was an addict to morphine, that woman. I don’t even carry that drug around with me.”</p><p>“She was a well-known, respected woman in her community. She was not a morphine addict.” Kayla swallowed multiple times to rid her throat of the large lump beginning to form, to no avail.</p><p>“Well, I assure you, she <em> was </em>.”</p><p>“That’s not true, and you and I both know that. We've a statement from a detective Daniel Forbes who works in the field of computers. He’s made a thorough examination of your computer, doctor, and the medical records contained on it. What he's found is that there are a number of entries that have been incorrectly placed on Ms. Taylor’s record to falsely mislead and indicate that this woman had a history of angina and abdominal pains. What have you got to say about that, doctor?”</p><p>A pin could drop and resonate even on the carpeted floor of the interrogation room. Kayla silently attempted to catch her breath.</p><p>“Nothing,” Dr. Smithson sighed. “I have nothing to say to you about that.”</p><p>“Kay,” came L’s synthesized voice from a speaker on the ceiling. “Proceed.”</p><p>Kayla produced a pair of handcuffs from her back pocket, and briskly approached Dr. Smithson. She locked the cuffs snugly around Smithson’s wrists.</p><p>“You are under arrest for the murder of Catherine Taylor,” announced Kayla. “You’re not required to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not speak when questioned about something which you may later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be held against you in evidence. You will remain under surveillance while in custody.”</p><p>The doctor did not say a word. He merely focused on the carpet beneath his feet.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Kayla, Abigail, and L sat upon the ladies’ red lounge chairs and sofa. Kayla took up the same posture as L, her mind churning like a machine. <em> He’s behind bars </em> , she thought to herself. <em> The look in his eyes proved that he doesn’t regret taking a single life. </em>She frowned. <em> Everyone who met Gran loved her. Why couldn’t he, her doctor, do the same? If anyone should have, he should have... </em></p><p>“Kay, I could certainly give you a picture if you’d prefer one,” joked L.</p><p>Kayla snapped back to reality and blushed heavily. Abigail smirked beside her from a chair. “I’m sorry." She hugged her knees into her chest. “I wasn’t staring. I was thinking.”</p><p>“What about?” asked Abigail, her smirk widening.</p><p>“It was nothing,” Kayla shook her head.</p><p>“It didn’t look like nothing,” observed L. “You seem troubled.”</p><p>“It’s just...” Kayla sighed. “I can't fathom how he could kill so many people - his <em> patients</em>. It hurts more to know how much he didn’t care about my Gran. He doesn’t regret killing her, or anybody else’s gran.”</p><p>“It's quite a lot to process," said L. "That man is definitely a monster. Luckily, he's now behind bars. I'm sorry it affected you before we could achieve that, though, Kay."</p><p>          Kayla offered him a weak smile and a shrug. "We still got the job done.</p><p>          "I think you could use something sweet,” L suggested. “That usually helps me.”</p><p>“Well, why don’t we go out of town for sundaes?” Abigail grinned. “I mean, I’m pretty sure locking up that old bag earned an evening off.”</p><p>Both of the girls directed their gaze at L for his decision. He tilted his head backward and glued his eyes to the ceiling. His index finger rested on his chin.</p><p>“Well,” he blinked, “I don’t think I could refuse a sundae.”</p><p> </p><p>Kayla found herself smiling as she sat in a booth with L and Abigail in an ice cream parlor just outside of London.</p><p>“I don’t know how you can stand that much in your sundae,” Kayla giggled to L beside her.</p><p>“I’m not interrogating <em> you </em> about your dessert preferences,” L grinned ever so slightly. “Don’t question mine. Besides, I thought you’d had enough of extracting information for one day.”</p><p>Kayla reddened in the face, and Abigail chuckled. L proceeded to shovel a scoop of vanilla ice cream containing candy pieces, strawberries, marshmallow sauce, and graham cracker crumbs into his mouth.</p><p>“Well, fine,” Kayla beamed. “When you gain weight don’t say I didn’t warn you.”</p><p>“Technically, you didn’t warn me about anything,” L claimed. “You simply couldn't comprehend my sense of taste. I burn plenty of calories using my brain.”</p><p>Kayla rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue that.”</p><p>“See? I knew you were intelligent."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          L decided to do some further investigating on Dr. Smithson after the case had been formally closed. He wanted to thoroughly review the circumstances under which a number of his patients had been murdered so that when it went to trial, the prosecution would have concrete evidence to work with. The day Kayla and L arrested Smithson, W informed law enforcement so that his imprisonment could be announced to the public, and his trial could be set as soon as possible. Kayla’s heart broke every time she questioned the families and loved ones of the victims.<br/>          In the case of seventy-seven-year-old Bethany Miller, Kayla interviewed her volunteer partner, Calvin Williams.<br/>          “You were there when she died?” Kayla asked, pursing her lips tightly to remain composed.<br/>          “I was just coming by for a weekly visit,” Calvin wiped his eyes dry. “She was in her recliner, and Smithson was just casually eyeing up all her crystal and porcelain in the next room.”<br/>          Kayla jotted down all that she could in swift bullet points. Before she could interject, Calvin continued.<br/>          “I just burst past him,” he cried. “She still felt warm to touch too. I said to him, ‘I can still feel her pulse,’ but he said, ‘No, that’s yours. I'll cancel the ambulance I ordered.’”<br/>          Directly ensuing Calvin’s interview, L requested that W acquire the phone records from Bethany’s home. He made plans to scrutinize them through the night.<br/>          Kayla’s heart broke again when she interviewed Thomas Peru, son of Natalie Peru.<br/>          “What time did you leave the house?” inquired Kayla, pen at the ready.<br/>          Thomas’ brow wrinkled. “It had to be around noon. I was only gone twenty minutes. I went to the store for her, and when I came back, Smithson was already leaving my mum’s house.” His hands balled into fists. “I asked him what was wrong. He said he’d rung an ambulance for her. So, naturally, I bolted in there. She looked like she was asleep in her recliner. I ran up to her and grabbed both of her hands saying, <em>‘Ma, ma.’</em> Smithson just put his hand on my shoulder and apologized about her being gone.”<br/>          L planned to look over the Peru’s phone records that evening as well. However, the most helpful family they questioned was the Denry family. Since Smithson claimed he did not carry morphine, he, in turn, challenged L and Kayla to prove him wrong. Meghan Denry’s death was confirmed when Judy Denry, her daughter-in-law, received a phone call from Doctor Smithson saying that her mother-in-law had only thirty minutes left to live.<br/>          “She passed away before I even got there,” Judy sobbed while Kayla tried to retain as professional a composure as possible. “He said it was a heart attack.”<br/>          Denise Denry, Meghan’s other daughter-in-law, stated “And that's when he said to me and Jeff that he gave her a shot of morphine to dull the pain.”<br/>          This proved that Dr. Smithson did carry morphine. Kayla and L sifted through this information together, reviewing the videos of each of the interrogations. L simultaneously scrutinized phone records from each of the residences he planned on reviewing, which amounted to nearly fifty of Smithson’s patients.<br/>          “Over ninety percent of them remained dressed in proper clothes,” L observed aloud. “There was never anything at their houses that indicated that the person had been ill - no heart medications for the symptoms he claimed were present, or anything of the sort.”<br/>          <em>He so impresses me</em>, Kayla thought to herself. <em>How is it that he can look at so much information without growing tired, bored, or frustrated?</em> She felt herself flush from her chest up into her face. Kayla then nearly leapt out of her chair, feeling taken aback. The realization had finally come over her. <em>I... L. He’s so... I’ve felt...</em><br/>          “Are you alright?” L asked without looking away from the paper he’d been holding directly in front of his face between two fingers. “You seem confused.”<br/>          “I-I’m not confused. I promise,” Kayla stammered quickly. “I’m happy to be here to help. I’m just not quite sure what it is I should do. I know you wanted to look over those phone records on your own.”<br/>          “Ah, so you are confused,” L deduced.<br/>          Kayla stop herself from turning even more crimson. “I suppose you could say that after all.” She twiddled her thumbs and looked at her feet. <em>Even though I’ve just finally realized that I...</em><br/>          “I’m almost done reading these. You’re quite welcome to stay here with me until I finish.”<br/>          “Oh, of course. In fact," she grinned widely, "I’ll go and fetch some of those panda bear cookies W had imported from Japan.”<br/>          L removed his gaze from the phone records and looked into Kayla’s eyes. “Thank you. I’m glad you’ll stay. You know, I don’t seem to like it here as much while you’re gone. The room’s emptiness becomes much more overwhelming.”<br/>          Kayla gave herself a little pinch on her wrist to ensure she remembered to breathe. Since she could not figure out how to respond, she gave L a weak smile and exited the room.</p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p>          Upon opening her eyelids, Kayla noticed that she did not seem to be in her bed. She felt her body sitting in a chair, and her arms and head resting upon a table. She immediately bolted upright into a standing position, her heart pounding beneath her bosom. L and Abigail, who had been seated on either side of her, turned their heads in her direction. Abigail covered her agape mouth with both of her hands.<br/>          “I, eh,” was all Kayla could stutter past her lips. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I fell asleep!” She shielded her tomato-red face with her arm.<br/>          Abigail broke out into a fit of giggles.<br/>          “Thank you for staying,” L replied calmly.<br/>          His computer then beeped, and a call from W appeared on his screen.<br/>          “Cody, I’ve contacted toxicologist Chester Jackson as you requested. His new test analyzed the women’s hair samples for ongoing drug usage. It proved that none of them were long-time drug abusers, and that any of the narcotics in murdered women’s tissue samples resulted from a single, massive dose.”<br/>          “Thank you very much, W. I think we have enough information for the prosecution now,” said L, and he terminated the call.<br/>          Kayla was glad to hear the confirmation her grandmother was not a morphine addict, despite her confidence that the claim couldn’t be farther from the truth in the first place. However, her fury toward the doctor trumped any part of her that had been relieved by the news.<br/>          “If you ask me,” began L, “this is quite enough to keep him behind bars until his trial.”<br/>          “Oh absolutely,” Abigail heartily agreed.<br/>          “Without question,” added Kayla.<br/>          “He claimed to have phoned an ambulance in many of his victim’s households, yet none of the phone records from those residences align with those claims. All of the lies about Catherine Taylor’s murder speak for themselves. He also claimed to never carry morphine, yet the Denry family told us explicitly that he did. Kayla, I’m sure you would like to do the honor of informing this man of his official imprisonment. If so, I can connect you to his cell now.”<br/>          Kayla blinked several times. “Y-yes, I would.”<br/>          In an instant, Dr. Smithson was on L’s computer screen looking quizzically around his cell.<br/>          “Yes? Well, what is it?” grumbled Dr. Smithson.<br/>          Kayla felt her temper rise, but she tried to swallow it down before she spoke. She leaned over to speak into L’s microphone, close enough to him that their shoulders touched. “This is Detective Taylor here to inform you of your imprisonment until trial. You murdered each and every one of your victims - your patients - by a calculated and cold-blooded perversion of your medical skills. You took advantage of, and grossly abused, their trust. The evidence we’ve collected speaks for itself. You have the right to a fair trial, but for the present time you will remain imprisoned and under close surveillance. Good day to you.” Kayla backed away from L’s microphone, and he disconnected the call. Instead of collapsing into a heap on the floor like she wanted to, she exhaled sharply and gave the others a confident smile. Abigail placed a tender hand upon her shoulder.<br/>          “I’d like to examine his motive,” stated L, addressing Kayla directly. “Would you be willing to aid me in this?”<br/>          “Sure,” answered Abigail. “It’s been fun.”<br/>          L did not acknowledge her reply. He merely kept his eyes on Kayla.<br/>          “Yes, I’d love to stay with you,” she answered. With pink cheeks she added, “For Gran.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>          Three days passed while L collected his thoughts about the Smithson case. Kayla and Abigail were left to do their down speculation about the case, and enjoying some off time. However, Kayla couldn’t help but spend the majority of her off time ruminating over how much had changed in so little time. Her place of residence had switched from university to L’s headquarters. Instead of preparing to work as a detective in the future, she had been granted the opportunity to partner alongside the greatest one the world had ever known. Her winter break from school was now officially at its beginning, and she already missed the taste of her Gran’s Christmas cookies and chocolate holiday truffles.</p><p>          Since the investigation was about to come to a close, a sense of displacement lurked in a corner of Kayla’s heart. Her living arrangements at university had been cancelled by W. Why would L have done such a thing for a temporary case? <em> Maybe he wants me to work on more cases with him! </em> She allowed herself to become immersed in her hopes for a moment. <em> Am I really that much of a help to him? </em>However, had that not been the case, and L dismissed her at the end of the day, where would Kayla be able to go? She would have to apply for housing at the university for the Spring semester, but where could she live until then? Perhaps L was aware of the fact that she would be able to do so, thus extending the case into her winter break to analyze Smithson’s motive?</p><p>          Kayla twirled her spaghetti bolognese - courtesy of Abigail - with her fork, her head buzzing with these inquiries. She wasn’t able to stomach more than a few bites. Her mind had still been on L. Over the investigation, she had enjoyed his company more than she could ever allow him to realize. It pained her to think about what would happen if she was asked to leave before the night came to an end. She would leave L and W and probably never see either of them ever again.</p><p>          “<em>Oi!</em>” squeaked Abigail from Kayla’s left at the kitchen counter. “I’ve been snapping my fingers in your ear for the past two minutes! Where <em> has </em> your mind been?”</p><p>          “I’m sorry,” Kayla shook her head to return to reality. “I must have been daydreaming...”</p><p>          “About what?”</p><p>          Kayla looked at Abigail, whose big, green eyes attempted to see straight into her mind. Kayla scratched behind her ear. “I already forget,” she gave an unconvincing chuckle.</p><p><em>           Beep! Beep! Beep! </em> A call from L blared through the ladies’ computer speakers.</p><p>          Abigail contorted her mouth, and clicked her tongue. “You know, Kay, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, but the timing’s never been quite right...” She hopped off the counter and over to the computer, and pressed the return key.</p><p>          “I’ve come to some conclusions,” said L softly. “Please join me downstairs. I’d like to share them with you.”</p><p>          “Speaking of timing...” Abigail’s voice trailed off in a whisper.</p><p>          L remained on screen as the women made their way to the elevator without hesitation. Kayla’s stomach lurched. <em> Is this it? Is this the last time I’ll ever see L? </em></p><p>          “What did you want to ask me about?” Kayla inquired in the elevator.</p><p>          “It ought to wait ‘til we get back upstairs.”</p><p>          “Alright.” </p><p>          When the girls exited the lift, they saw L accepting a rather large strawberry milkshake from W, seated in his usual chair. When the ladies approached them, W handed each of them a milkshake of their own.</p><p>          “Thank you, W,” said Kayla sweetly.</p><p>          He smiled and bowed to her.</p><p>          “Thanks, my favorite!” cheered Abigail, and she took a big gulp through her straw.</p><p>          W nodded once more to Abigail before walking briskly towards the adjacent room full of filing cabinets.</p><p>          “To begin,” uttered L, “I thought I’d say thank you. Your help on this case has been truly monumental.”</p><p>          Kayla’s eyes shone with admiration. “Thank <em> you </em> for the opportunity,” she beamed.</p><p>          “Yeah, what she said, and you’re welcome,” chimed in Abigail, stirring her milkshake.</p><p>          “Checking up on Smithson’s mother revealed that she died when he was only seventeen years old. Interestingly enough, she’d been put into a morphine-induced coma the day she passed. He was the one taking care of her at the time, and he watched the doctor inject her.”</p><p>          “Bloody hell,” breathed Abigail.</p><p>          “A few years down the road, Smithson became addicted to pethidine himself. It appears as though he had some sort of fascination with drugs. Perhaps some of the deaths occurred because he had been experimenting with them? He might have liked to test the boundaries of certain forms of treatment. Is it just a coincidence that he began abusing painkillers himself, and then used a lethal injection of pain medication to murder his victims?”</p><p>          “The way Smithson could do all this is quite unsettling,” proclaimed Kayla. “The way he could kill, face the families, and walk away unsuspected is mind-boggling.”</p><p>          “Yes,” L nodded. “Yes it is. I wonder, though, if he <em> wanted </em>to be caught. Why would he give up his typewriter so easily? And why would he use a drug that could so easily be traced back to himself? Perhaps it had become a horrifying habit of some kind. Maybe he wanted to be caught so that he could stop his compulsion to kill.”</p><p>          “Maybe he was recreating the scene of his mother’s death,” suggested Kayla, her heart rate beginning to hasten. “He might have wanted to fulfill some masochistic need of his.” </p><p>          “You know, I almost considered that. However, Smithson’s belief in his own superiority makes that questionable. I feel as though it was, indeed, his sense of superiority that drove him to commit these murders. He must have enjoyed watching the process of dying, and felt intoxicated with the power to choose who would live and who would not.”</p><p>          Abigail released a sharp exhale. “Wow. Cody, you amaze me.”</p><p>          “I’m only being logical,” stated L, poking at the straw to his beverage.</p><p><em>           Still amazing</em>, Kayla thought to herself.</p><p>          “Would you mind if Kay and I went back upstairs though, now that this is solved?” asked Abigail like a hopeful child wanting to be excused from the dinner table. “We were just starting to talk about something important when you called us down.”</p><p>          “By all means,” said L through a mouthful of milkshake; he swallowed, “go ahead.”</p><p> </p><p>         </p><p>          Kayla and Abigail were barely through their door when Abigail continued their earlier conversation.</p><p>          “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, but the timing’s never been quite right,” she repeated her statement from earlier.</p><p>          “Go on then,” coaxed Kayla, sitting once more at the kitchen counter with her back to the streaming computer screen.</p><p>          “It’s about Cody.”</p><p>          Kayla felt all of her muscles tense. “What about him?”</p><p> </p><p>          “Cody, you’ve left the screen on,” observed W as he collected L’s empty milkshake glass.</p><p>          “So I have,” deadpanned L. “They seem to have left the video call on by mistake too. However, I hardly think this isn’t my business now. I <em> was </em>mentioned after all.”</p><p> </p><p>          “I can’t help but wonder,” Abigail began slowly, “whether or not you’re in love with him.”</p><p>          Kayla giggled unconvincingly. “<em> What? </em> That - that’s absolutely mental. <em> Me </em> in love with <em> Cody</em>.” A volcano seemed to erupt in her chest, its lava spewing a crimson hue evenly throughout her entire face. “Definitely not.”</p><p>          “Kay,” teased Abigail gently, “you’re as red as the sofa.”</p><p>          Kayla turned away from Abigail, and crossed her arms tightly.</p><p>          “You do!” exclaimed Abigail. “You <em> L </em> L!”</p><p>          Kayla turned back around. She had no other choice but to confide in Abigail. “<em>Okay</em>!” she hollered. “Okay.” Kayla paused for a moment and finally drew a deep breath. “Yes, yes I do. I mean, I’ve technically <em> admired </em> him since before I’d met him in person. <em> However</em>, that might make you argue that I only <em> think </em> I have feelings for him simply because of who he is. It’s not <em> who </em> he is that makes me feel the way I do about him. It’s <em> the person </em> he is. Working alongside him has been greater than I could have ever imagined. I’d had no idea I’d get to know him outside of the case as well. He’s so incredibly smart. He’s actually quite kind, so intriguing, and so... <em> handsome </em> . Everything from the way he insists on sitting to the way he phrases things is simply so unique, and I adore it. When he looks at me - every time I’m close to him - I feel warm. My chest could burst at the mere realization that I’m next to somebody so special. So <em> yes! </em> Yes. It actually feels kind of nice to have finally told somebody that.”</p><p>          Abigail was not looking at Kayla. She was looking past her, wearing a grave expression.</p><p> </p><p>          L’s back was still to the screen showcasing Kayla and Abigail’s conversation. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide. </p><p>          “Well, Cody,” chuckled W with a wide grin, “what do you make of that?”</p><p>          “I suppose that personal case of mine has certainly been solved now,” L’s eyes remained locked upon a shadowy corner of the room.</p><p> </p><p>          “Abby, what is it?” implored Kayla, her heart now pounding for a new reason.</p><p>          Abigail did not answer her. Instead, she called out, “Cody!”</p><p>          Kayla promptly turned toward the computer. Upon the screen, L craned his neck so that half of his face could be seen by the video feed. He did not make eye contact with the camera. Kayla felt like melting into a puddle of mortification. </p><p>          “Did you hear...?” Abigail asked softly.</p><p>          L did not respond. He merely resumed his position with his back to the women.</p><p>          “You know, it’s really stuffy in here,” Kayla fanned herself. “I’m going to go for a quick walk in the cold air.”</p><p>          Abigail stood silently with her mouth agape as her colleague backed away toward their door. The second she was able to, Kayla made a beeline for the stairs. By the time she had strolled a few blocks to collect her thoughts, she would be able to return to headquarters in a much calmer state of mind to sort out the situation. She was severely embarrassed, to say the very least. She had fallen in love with<em> L</em>. How could she possibly think she might be worthy? He had many more pressing concerns to devote his time and attention to. How could she possibly continue to work with him after making such a fool of herself? As she neared an exit, Kayla was stopped in her tracks. L stood by the door, a miniature fan in his hands. The hallway had been nearly pitch black, however, a small light attached to the tiny fan illuminated the space between them in a bluish glow that appeared to be emanated by the mere presence of L.</p><p>          “You said you were warm,” L claimed.</p><p>          Kayla did not know how to respond to him. Her heart was pounding far too loudly for her to concentrate on forming a coherent reply.</p><p>          “You’d feel much better if you came closer,” he urged her.</p><p>          Kayla hesitated, then took several slow paces toward him. Her footsteps echoed throughout the empty hallway. She looked up into L’s eyes, which were gazing intently back into her own. His lips twitched up into a tiny grin. The air from his fan cooled Kayla’s skin. If only it could stop her heart from pounding so vociferously.</p><p>          “The cool air would have never reached you from over there," he said.</p><p>          “You’re right.”</p><p>          L then lowered the fan, and the hallway became almost entirely engulfed in darkness. Just as Kayla was going to ask him why he had stopped her from leaving, she felt warmth on the tips of her fingers. L was pulling her back up the stairs, holding three of her fingers loosely between his index finger and thumb. He walked a few paces ahead of her and did not look back. Kayla decided not to question where they were headed. This was L after all. She trusted him wholeheartedly. After climbing a few staircases, L led the way through a door. They were on another residential floor in the building. The floor was covered in a soft, beige carpet. A massive window took up most of one of the walls, overlooking London at night. The dimmed lights shone down on the carpet and reflected somewhat of a gold glitter onto the white walls. L gently released her fingers and continued to shuffle toward one of the two cushioned maroon chairs near the window.</p><p>          “Where are we?” asked Kayla, following him toward the window.</p><p>          “We’re on another unoccupied floor,” said L as he sat with his feet upon the edge of his chair instead of its footrest.</p><p>          Kayla parked herself in the chair next to him, saying nothing. They became locked in one another’s gaze for a moment, and Kayla found herself feeling confused. Why would L have brought her somewhere private if no words were going to be exchanged between them? Perhaps he was waiting for her to speak first. <em> Maybe he wants some sort of explanation... </em>Even though she was still incredibly embarrassed, Kayla opened her mouth to speak.</p><p>          “I feel it too,” confessed L softly, his toes absentmindedly twiddling. He did not blink, and his eyes remained focused on hers.</p><p>          “What?” breathed Kayla, not entirely sure as to what he meant.</p><p>          “The warmth you described. I feel it too. Often, actually. In fact,” L stood pulled Kayla to her feet; he placed her hand upon his cheek, “I feel it quite intensely right now at this moment. Surely my face feels warm to you as well.”</p><p>          Kayla had not anticipated this. She stopped her jaw from falling open. <em> He... he... </em> She could not help but begin to smile.</p><p>          “Now I see that your eyes have traveled from my eyes, to my lips, and back up into my eyes. That makes me over seventy percent certain that you might like to kiss me right now.”</p><p>          Kayla reddened in the face. “I - em...”</p><p>          L lowered his head so that the tips of their noses touched.</p><p>          “Yes,” whispered Kayla with a fierce nod. “Yes.”</p><p>          “Then, by all means, please do.”</p><p>          Neither one of them hesitated. Kayla and L both pressed their lips against one another’s. Her hand remained upon his cheek, and L placed his on the back of her neck. When their lips parted, the pair of them gazed once more into each other’s eyes. Kayla took her hand from L’s cheek and placed it gingerly upon his shoulder.</p><p><em>           No, I’m not dreaming. That’s the warmth of L’s skin under this thin, white shirt. </em> L pulled her closer to him, and she continued to focus upon his eyes. They looked tired, yet full of an energy that Kayla had never noticed before. </p><p>          “Cody, I...” Kayla whispered.</p><p>          L hugged her closer so that now her head was resting upon his chest. </p><p>          “Please, call me Lawliet. It’s a name much dearer to me than Cody.”</p><p>          “Oh, alright” Kayla answered softly, her eyes closed. She wrapped her arms around him. “Lawliet.” It didn’t matter if it was his real name or not.</p><p>          “I believe it’s safe for me to assume that you’d be willing to stay and work with me?” </p><p>          Kayla somehow grew warmer in his embrace. “Yes, yes of course.”</p><p>          “Good. As I’ve said before, it feels much emptier here without you.”</p><p>          “Thank you,” beamed Kayla. “I could have never dreamed of you feeling the same way.”</p><p>          “I must admit, attempting to deduce your feelings was one of the more difficult cases for me to take on. And that, Kay, is saying something.”</p><p>          Kayla threw back her lead in laughter, and L cracked a genuine smile. “I’m sure Abby is worried,” Kayla remembered. "I should probably let her know I'm alright."</p><p>          “I’ll see you in the morning then,” said L, still grinning</p><p>          “Yes, of course. Goodnight, Lawliet.”</p><p>          L did not reply. Instead, he gently pressed his lips to hers. Kayla reluctantly left L behind while she sought out the elevator to see Abigail and tell her all about what happened. The Dr. Smithson case brought Kayla many things. The last thing she had expected was for it to bring her love. She looked so forward to assisting L with future cases and seeing where things would go with him. She wondered what her Gran would think of it all.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>THE END</strong> </span>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is dedicated to my friend Ethan! I wrote this in 2013, and I kept joking that I'd publish it on here. It's certainly not my best writing and not a story I'd say I'm proud of, but I hope the cringe has some charm. I tried to embellish parts and add sections, but I haven't had the energy for a full overhaul of the story, and I get burnt out on it quickly. I liked to wonder what L would do if he fell in love, but I didn't want to write it from his perspective. Maybe one day I'll spend the time and make some heavy edits on this, but I hope the lazy version does okay for now! Thanks for reading &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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